Clipped Wings
by Goldilocks 92
Summary: Hermione has left the magical world and Snape is training to become a muggle doctor... What! Hermione wakes up looking like a blowfish, an awkward encounter makes Snape blush, and perhaps Hermione will learn how to fly again. A four part story.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is based on my own random medical experience in December which was, sadly, Snape-less. I started writing it when I was confined to my little flat and thought it would be fun to turn the whole thing into a fanfic! Reviews make me happy :)  
_

 _RIP Alan Rickman :'(_

 _..._

Hermione woke up two hours before her alarm and knew instantly that something was wrong. It was still dark outside. Her jaw felt strange and her mouth was bone dry. She reached up to feel her face before running to the mirror in her bathroom.

"Fuck" she gasped as she saw her shocked reflection looking back at her. The bottom half of her face was swollen like never before, her cheeks were puffed out and she had a double chin. Her face was puffy – Dolores Umbridge puffy. Hermione pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming before looking at herself again and poking at her inflated cheek. "Fuck" she said again.

Two hours to go before her local doctor's surgery opened. Hermione went back to bed and tried to fall asleep again before giving it up as a lost cause. What the hell was wrong with her? One didn't simply wake up in the morning looking like a blowfish!

She got up and wandered into her small kitchen wearing nothing but her night t-shirt. While making herself a morning cup of strong coffee, Hermione couldn't stop poking at her face. Her tonsils were thick and swollen, her parotid glands were hard ridges starting beneath her ears. Well, that would explain her dry mouth! There goes work for the day... no way was she going into the university looking like she was.

Eventually she got dressed and ready to go to the doctors. She wrapped her scarf around the lower half of her face to avoid intrusive stares and swiftly walked the short distance to the surgery.

When the receptionist saw her, she couldn't help but gape. "I'm sorry, I don't have an appointment. But I woke up this morning looking like this – do you think a doctor can see me anyway?" Hermione asked, blushing at the receptionist's blatant staring.

The receptionist shook herself out of her surprise and resumed her professional facade. Soon Hermione was seated in one of the consulting rooms, gratified that she didn't have to wait in the waiting room with the other patients in case she was contagious. _Well at least looking like this has some benefits_ , she thought. And then another benefit walked in through the door. A tall, slim doctor with sandy hair and piercing blue-green eyes approached her and smiled from under his long eyelashes.

"What seems to be the problem, Miss Granger?" he asked, smiling at her kindly.

She waved at her face and responded, "I don't usually look like this. My face is normally much smaller."

"I see," the beautiful doctor said. "Do you mind if I feel your face?"

Hermione blushed and nodded her agreement. He took her face between his warm dry hands and prodded around her chin and cheeks. "Have you been vaccinated against mumps?" he asked. "Your swelling is a textbook symptom of the virus."

"Well, yes. I received the standard MMR vaccination as a child." Hermione replied. "Both of them."

"How strange, Miss Granger!" The doctor seemed surprised. "I can't think of anything else it would be. Your tonsils look fine, so you don't have tonsillitis, and if you had a parotid gland infection, the swelling wouldn't be spread so regularly. Do you have a temperature?" Hermione shook her head.

"We're going to have to do some tests, if you will follow me into the next room, we can start with an ultrasound of your face". Hermione gathered her stuff and followed the doctor into the next room, unsure whether to feel bemused or concerned at the fact that her case seemed so unusual. And she was going to have an ultrasound scan. She had thought that was only done for pregnant women.

But when she entered the next room, it wasn't empty. Hermione stopped in her tracks, shocked.

"Ah," the doctor said, "here is our student helper, Mr. Snape. You don't mind if he observes the procedure, do you?"

Hermione was still gaping at her old professor, shocked at seeing him in her local _muggle_ doctor's surgery wearing a white overall. He held her gaze politely, but there was no spark of recognition in his eyes. "Miss?" the doctor said again, startling her out of her surprise.

"Erm, yes, sure," Hermione murmured, walking towards the bed covered with a long sheet of paper. What was he doing here? Why hadn't he recognised her? She lay down in a daze and jumped when the doctor smeared something cold on her cheek and chin.

"Nothing to worry about," he said, "this is just the gel for the ultrasound." And then Hermione remembered why she was there in the first place. Her face was grotesquely swollen, no wonder Snape didn't recognise her when he wasn't expecting her! And the doctor hadn't said her name since they had entered the new room.

Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she hardly noticed the pressure on her face as the doctor moved the handheld device around her cheek. "Please turn your face to the other side, Miss Granger," the doctor said, and Hermione turned her head to rest it on the other cheek, facing the screen showing the ultrasound image, as well as her old professor.

The latter had frozen in shock at hearing the doctor speak her name. Hermione uncharacteristically didn't spare the screen a glance as her gaze locked with Snape's. He recognised her now, a deep crease had pulled between his eyebrows, and he held himself stiffly, as if self-conscious. He looked different, Hermione noted. Better. He was tall and slim as ever, but despite his sudden stiffness, there was something more approachable in the way he held himself. His face also looked younger, less strained, less closed. His long black hair was clean and tied back in a way which highlighted the bold, attractive lines of his face.

Hermione had always found her potions professor attractive, in a distant, unattainable kind of way. As she looked at him now, that attraction shifted and she felt a tight knot in the bottom of her belly pull together in what she recognised as desire. The feeling shocked her out of her appraisal – how long had it been since she had felt physical desire for someone?

And then consciousness of her surroundings and situation flooded back to her and Hermione clenched her eyes shut as embarrassment flooded through her. She looked like a blowfish. There was some kind of gel smeared all over her face. There was something wrong with her, but even the doctor didn't know what.

Hermione fervently wished she had met Snape in different circumstances. In circumstances in which she could have met him as an equal. Not barely recognisable and lying on her back.

"Miss Granger came in today with her face swollen, and we're trying to work out why, Mr. Snape," the doctor started to explain to his mature student visiting for work experience. "She's been vaccinated against mumps, and this scan doesn't show any unusual lymphs – there are only a couple around her tonsils. Her parotid glands are clearly swollen, yet apparently not infected."

Snape cleared his throat. "No prior illness or conditions? Is she on any medication?"

"No," Hermione replied for herself, disliking being referred to in the third person when she was present. She looked at Snape again. "And apart from the swelling, I feel fine now as well. Healthy as a horse, as they say." Snape's eyes seemed to spark when their eyes connected again, and his posture seemed to relax, as if realising that she wasn't there to ambush him.

"It really is very strange," the doctor said, intruding on their connection. "I think we should take a blood sample and then Mr. Snape, you can give her an ECG test."

"Oh, I don't think I'm ready -" Snape tried to refuse but the doctor interrupted him.

"-nonsense, you're more than ready to do it alone, you've done it plenty of times!" It was clear the doctor had made up his mind.

Hermione was sent to the nurse to have a blood sample taken. She had always disliked needles and determinedly looked away as the nurse quickly and efficiently executed her task.

And then she was pointed towards a bed in the corner of the room. When she had sat down, Snape joined her and drew the curtains surrounding the bed closed. He didn't look at her and instead fumbled at a machine which had a bunch of long grey plastic tubes hanging from it.

"Please lift up the back of your shirt, miss Granger," he said awkwardly, still not looking at her.

Hermione blushed and turned around, tugging up her top.

"A bit higher please," he said, and she lifted her shirt up above her bra strap, not knowing what to say in this more than surreal situation. She felt a pressure against her back and looked behind her to see Snape pressing a stethoscope against her. He looked decidedly uncomfortable as he listened to her heartbeat, his eyebrows drawn together and his eyes looking away from her.

He pulled the stethoscope away from her back and asked her to turn around. He then pressed the stethoscope against her chest, clearly making an effort not to graze her skin with his fingers.

He pulled away from her again and reached up to adjust something at the machine.

"Please take off your shirt and lie back please," he said, still looking at the machine. He held himself in a rigid pose and Hermione almost had to feel sorry for him.

She decided to make it a bit easier for him and said "no problem", before pulling her top over her head and lying down on her back, her hands resting on her hips. She felt exposed and uncomfortable but was determined not to show it. She also felt relieved that she had grabbed her pretty black lace bra when hurriedly getting dressed that morning.

Snape lifted one of the long grey tubes and took the electrode attached to the end of it. He moved further away from her and gently lifted the bottom of her trousers and attached the electrode to her ankle. Hermione felt a light suction as the electrode attached to her. He repeated the process and attached electrodes to her other ankle and to her hands which were still resting on her hips.

There were more to go, and the next ones were placed on the top of her chest. Snape seemed to pause, before taking the next one and placing it on the flesh of her breast at the top of her bra. Hermione was looking up at the ceiling and could only feel what he was doing. There was an unbearable tension in the room and she felt she had to break it, to acknowledge their previous relationship.

"So, Professor Snape, you're studying to be a doctor?" she asked, just before she felt another electrode being attached to her left breast, this time to the curve of her breast beneath the top of her bra. As that electrode tightened against her, she felt the previous one come off and heard Snape curse quietly.

He cleared his throat as he tried to attach the electrode again. "Yes, I am. Clearly." he replied gruffly, reaching for the next electrode after securing the other one again. She felt him at her breast once more, attaching the electrode to the bottom of her breast just above the underwire of her bra. His warm fingers brushed against her skin for the first time and she felt a frisson of electricity spark through her at the contact. The knot deep in her belly made its presence known again and she had to stop herself from gasping.

The other electrodes on her breast detached themselves again and Hermione knew what was coming next.

"Apologies, miss Granger, but I'm going to have to ask you to remove your bra." Snape's voice seemed tight, but Hermione couldn't look at him as she sat up, unhooked her bra and placed it on the seat next to her. She lay back and just looked at the ceiling, feeling that if she saw her own breasts it would make everything more real. She had never felt so exposed before, and she didn't even want to know how far her breasts were sagging towards her armpits. She had filled out since the war, her stomach was no longer flat and her breasts were heavy, much more subject to gravity than they used to be. At least she still had a waistline. But this was not how she would have wanted Snape to see her half naked for the first time, not in a doctor's surgery and certainly not with her face resembling that of a greedy hamster.

She could feel Snape begin to reattach the electrodes to the side of her breast and decided she needed to distract herself from what was going on. "I haven't seen you since we all left Hogwarts", she said, not wanting to refer to the war. "How have you been?"

"Adequate." Snape answered shortly, and Hermione couldn't help but look away from the ceiling and at him. The line between his eyebrows had deepened even further and there were two pink spots high up on his cheeks. He was certainly not unaffected by the situation. As he attached another electrode to her breast, she could feel his hand trembling slightly. Definitely affected.

"I'm glad to see you again, Professor," Hermione continued, not willing to descend back into uncomfortable silence. "You're looking well, it's good to know that you are doing alright."

His eyes snapped to hers and he seemed confused. He didn't respond.

"To be honest, I haven't seen much of people from the magical world in the last years," Hermione continued, ignoring his silence. "After things ended, I found I didn't really belong there. I would have gone to St. Mungo's today, I'm sure diagnosis would have been quicker, but I really don't want to suddenly reappear again, not unless I really have to."

Snape had finished attaching the electrodes by this point and had pressed a button on the machine, beginning to measure the electrical activity of Hermione's heart. He wasn't looking at her any more but it was clear that he was listening to her.

A thought occurred to Hermione: "why don't you just quickly cast a diagnosis spell for me? Surely that would be much quicker than all this?"

Snape's eyes flicked to hers again, before he looked back at the machine. He cleared his throat again, which Hermione perceived as a sign of nervousness or discomfort – he had clearly lost his ability to completely hide everything he was feeling.

"I was unfortunate enough to lose my magic, Miss Granger" he said, before pressing another button on the machine in practised calmness. "That's that done, I'll remove the electrodes and you can get dressed again."

Snape swiftly removed them from her body and Hermione quickly sat up to cover herself, trying to process what he had just told her. "But how?" she cried after a moment. "How did you lose your magic Professor?" Her back was still turned to him.

"I'm no longer your professor, Miss Granger" he said. "And I lost my magic when I was bitten. I suppose I was fortunate not to have lost more. But why didn't you cast a diagnosis spell yourself? Don't tell me you've forgotten such a simple spell," Snape sneered and for a moment his old self was back in the room.

Hermione turned around and regarded him with sad eyes. "I found removing myself from the magical world was too painful when I continued using my magic. I gave up using my wand. A clean break and all that."

They looked at each other for a moment, sharing a sense of mutual loss, brown eyes locked into his black depths. Now that the ECG ordeal was over, Snape seemed to relax somewhat. He still looked slightly uncomfortable, even confused, as he opened his mouth to say something to her...

But at that moment the doctor drew open the curtains and interrupted them. Hermione looked at him, surprised she had found him so attractive earlier. Yes, he was objectively very good looking, but he lacked depth, he lacked intensity. Hermione knew who she was comparing him to, and kicked herself for being so stupid. Nothing would come of it.

"Miss Granger," the doctor said. "I'm afraid we can't tell you what the cause of your swelling is. It is highly unusual I'm afraid, but please do call us tomorrow to find out if the results of the blood test revealed anything, and please come back in if anything changes."

That was Hermione's cue to leave. She didn't want to leave without speaking more to Snape, but somehow knew she couldn't reveal their past relationship to the doctor. She gathered her things, and gave Snape one last, hard look, and left the surgery.

She missed the look that almost spoke of despair which he shot at her departing back.

When she'd returned to the flat, Hermione immediately headed for the mirror. "Fuck" she said for the third time that day. She really did look like a blowfish.

For some reason she wasn't particularly bothered about what it was that had made her swell up like this. She was much more concerned that that was how Snape had seen her. Admittedly, he had not said very much to her, but she was captivated by him already. How he had changed! Before he'd found out who she was, he had seemed at ease with himself and in his environment. He looked healthy and even handsome in his long white coat, so very different from his billowing cloak, his defence mechanism against the rest of the world.

And his new choice of job was wondrous too. He had decided to become a doctor once he had been freed from his two overbearing masters. He had lost his magic, his place in the world he had known, and instead of retreating into himself and living as a hermit and outsider, he had trained as a doctor and had decided to devote himself to a life helping people. Again.

Hermione couldn't help a deep sense of admiration for the man rising within her. For all his outer facade of misanthropy and harshness, Snape was clearly a man who cared about helping others. And he was a man Hermione desperately wanted to know.

Her mind flashed back to how she had lain on that bed, her top half naked, her left breast covered in electrodes and her face swollen and puffy. And Snape had clearly been mortified. There was no way he would want to see her again.

Hermione spent the rest of the day trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation in her face and trying to forget her experience at the doctor's that morning. She tried to get some research done from home, but found herself to be unusually unproductive. She was researching manuscripts from nunneries around the time of the Reformation in Europe and while she normally found the subject more than interesting enough to hold her attention for hours at a time, right now she was unable to lose herself in it.

She couldn't stop her mind from wandering to the man currently working in the doctor's surgery down the road from her.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews I've had so far, they're a great motivator! Enjoy :)_

 _..._

The next morning Hermione awoke absolutely parched. Her mouth was so dry she could barely swallow and her head was pounding with pain. She reached for the glass of water on her bedside table and took a sip, swirling the liquid around her mouth, trying to get rid of the dry sensation. "Fuck", she tried to say, but instead only a croak sounded from her lips.

She got up and went to the mirror again. Still a blowfish. She sighed. It felt like her tonsils had gotten bigger and clearly her parotid glands still weren't doing their job adequately.

The doctor had said to come back if she got worse, so Hermione supposed she would have to return. A part of her delighted that she would be seeing Snape again, then plummeted into misery when it remembered that, if anything, she looked worse than the day before.

Hermione jumped in the shower and tried to wash herself healthy again. She brushed her teeth vigorously to get the foul taste out of her mouth that was surely a result of the parched dryness. She put on her best underwear _just in case_ and put on a pretty dress, feeling silly all the while. She considered make up, but after another look in the mirror she gave her face up as a lost cause.

This time Hermione had to wait in the waiting room with the other patients, no longer receiving special treatment. She took out a book for her research and pretended to read it while all the time glancing through the open door to the corridor, trying to catch a glimpse of Snape. Patient after patient was called by one of the two resident doctors, but Hermione didn't see any trace of Snape. She wasn't sure why she was so desperate to see him again, especially under the circumstances, but she knew she would be devastated if she didn't. He was the first person she had seen from her old world in a while, but unlike other reminders of that time, Snape didn't make her want to hide and cry. And he was _fascinating_. He was a puzzle she wanted to solve. Why had he chosen to become a doctor, of all things? He was a very attractive puzzle she wanted to solve.

An older, frumpy man finally called her name – the other resident doctor. She followed him into his bare office and sat down across the desk from him. There were no beautiful dark-haired men in the room, Hermione noted with dismay.

The doctor didn't seem to be aware of the fact that she had been there only yesterday, so she had tell him about the whole issue from the beginning. He was clearly unsure of how to respond and Hermione almost sneered at him. The younger doctor had been far superior. To her relief, the younger doctor was then called to come to frumpy's aid, having seen her the day before. And behind him, coming through the side door connecting their offices, followed Snape. Hermione couldn't prevent a grin from spreading over her swollen face when their eyes met.

Something sparked in his dark eyes, but then he quickly looked away and Hermione felt bereft. The younger doctor felt her face again and asked her about how she was feeling. She tried to concentrate as she told him about her headache, while her croaky voice spoke for itself. All the while her eyes kept flicking towards Snape, but he was just standing there with his hands in his pockets, the crease between his eyes back again, and not looking at her. She desperately wanted to be closer to him, to speak to him, but there were other people in the room and she could think of no reason to address him.

"The tests from yesterday didn't show anything unusual, and the only reasonable explanation for your symptoms is that you have mumps, despite your vaccinations," the doctor was saying. "The vaccine doesn't guarantee 100% protection against the virus, so you must have been very unlucky. There is also no treatment for mumps, so you will just have to stay at home and rest while you recover. Avoid contact with small children and other unvaccinated people for the next week, and treat your symptoms as they come. Ibuprofen should help with the swelling, and paracetamol will help with your headache. This is a very unusual case, Miss Granger, but you should be fine. Do not hesitate to contact us if your condition worsens, but it is highly unlikely that you will suffer any complications."

Hermione felt herself to be dismissed. That was it, she guessed. Nothing she could do but stay at home and recover, and it was highly unlikely she would ever see Snape again. The thought sent a bolt of pain lacing through her.

As she got up to leave, she looked at Snape again and this time he was looking back at her. His expression wasn't closed off now, it spoke of frustration and perhaps even sorrow. Hermione didn't want to leave him like that, didn't want to leave without letting him know that she very much wanted to see him again, but there was nothing she could do. She tried to convey her desperation and hope through her eyes, before leaving the room and the surgery.

When she got back to her flat she couldn't help but cry a little. _I will never see him again_ , she thought, and it felt unbearable. How was it that she had only seen him twice, had hardly spoken to him during that time, and yet was left with such strong feelings? She felt desolate.

But why had his parting expression seemed to echo her thoughts? Was she simply projecting her own feelings onto him? Surely he could not be so similarly affected, similarly attracted, when he had never shown any positive feelings towards her in the past, and when he had only now seen her ill and swollen?

Realising that she wasn't going to get any work done that day, Hermione didn't even consider pulling out her research. She made herself some toast and switched on the TV. The food felt dry and flavourless in her mouth, and she couldn't finish even half of it. The empty laughter coming from the television made her headache worse. She flicked through the channels trying to find something that wasn't fake and meaningless and ended up settling for a documentary about a bird sanctuary for birds with clipped or broken wings.

That's what she felt like, Hermione thought as her eyes started drooping. Without her magic, she felt like a bird who could no longer fly.

The loud noise of her buzzer woke her. Who could possibly be calling at her door? Half asleep, she stumbled to the buzzer and pressed on the button to open the door to her building, calling out "fourth floor".

The lift doors eventually opened and behind them Hermione could see a massive bouquet of flowers. "Delivery for Miss Granger", the man said as he approached her.

Hermione signed for the flowers feeling very confused. Who would send her flowers? No one knew she was ill, she didn't really have anyone to tell. No one would notice if she wasn't in her office at the university, she often worked from home or from the library anyway. And she didn't really have friends, not any more, just acquaintances she would occasionally meet up with for a drink. There definitely wasn't any potential love interest who would be sending her flowers either.

They were beautiful white roses embedded among some greenery. Simple and elegant, with a beautiful scent which didn't threaten to overwhelm. Hermione looked for a note, but couldn't find one. _Who were they from?!_

A part of Hermione whispered to her that they could be from Snape, but she shoved that little idea far away. He didn't know where she lived, and even if he did, he would never have sent her flowers. She should forget about him, nothing could come of it.

Hermione spent the next days curled up in her bed rereading her favourite novels and generally feeling sorry for herself. She constantly had a headache, only partially relieved by paracetamol, and her face remained swollen, although the swelling did appear to be going down day by day. Occasionally she braved the outside world and went on short walks in her nearby park when her flat started to feel too small and stifling.

The one bright spark of her days was the daily delivery of flowers. Her mysterious benefactor outdid himself (she couldn't help but think of him as a man). The flowers remained simple and elegant and soon every surface of her small flat was full of bouquets which complemented each other beautifully. Her one-room flat had never smelt so good.

After the fifth day the swelling in her face had disappeared completely, and her headache was much more manageable pain-wise. She had returned to her research, once more being able to concentrate on the nuns and their writings – how brave and strong they had all been in the face of such brutal opposition! Hermione was sure that she would have chosen to be a nun had she lived in early modern times. That was the only route a woman could take if she didn't want to end up being a wife and mother with no right to intellectual expression and opinion.

That didn't mean that she wasn't still constantly thinking of Snape. She had come to realise that not only did she find him incredibly attractive, he was the only person who had the potential to understand her. Like her, he was cut off from the magical world. Like her, he had suffered unimaginable pain and loss during the war. Perhaps he was lonely and isolated. Like her.

She didn't dwell on the fact that whenever she went on a little walk to the park she would go the long way round which took her past the doctor's surgery. And she certainly didn't walk past as slowly as possible, trying to catch a glimpse of a dark-haired man through the windows.

The next day was a Saturday, and Hermione woke up feeling completely recovered. And she still had the weekend before she had to return to the university. After breakfast, she dedicated the morning to her research, trying to decipher a hand-written document which she might have liberated from the library without asking. After lunch she sat down with a novel and a cup of coffee.

But she wasn't concentrating on the novel. She was waiting for her buzzer to sound. The flowers were late. Hermione sat on her sofa feeling increasingly annoyed at herself. Why was she so upset that no flowers had come for her? She hardly had any room for any more! And surely she couldn't expect to receive flowers every day indefinitely. And besides, she didn't know who they were from, for all she knew they could be from some creepy stalker.

When she finally realised that no flowers were going to arrive for her, Hermione pulled on her boots and coat more forcefully than was strictly necessary and headed out for her daily walk. It was already beginning to get dark, winter was really beginning.

When she left her building Hermione suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, shocked.

 _Snape._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for all the follows/favourites/reviews!_

 _Enjoy ;)_

 _..._

Snape was leaning against the pillar right outside her door, hands in his pockets and dark hair loose, seemingly ruffled by the wind. He looked gorgeous, and somehow homely in his less than pristine state.

They looked at each other for a while without saying anything. Hermione felt warmth spreading through her body at his sustained eye-contact and the small smile that played around his lips sent a frisson of desire through her.

"How long have you been standing there?" Hermione asked eventually.

"A while", he responded smoothly, not giving anything more away.

Hermione walked past him in direction of the park, leaving him standing behind her, the crease between his eyebrows returning.

But then she turned around and called out to him, "are you coming or not?"

Snape turned around looking surprised, before _laughing_ and joining her, his long legs carrying him smoothly. It was Hermione's turn to be surprised. She had never seen him laugh before.

They walked together quietly for a while, both seemingly content. Occasionally Snape's arm brushed hers and Hermione was soon blushing again.

"Thank you for the flowers," she said when they had reached the park. She was sure now that they were from him. "They were all beautiful."

Snape only nodded in response, but said nothing.

"How did you know my address?" Hermione asked, curious.

It was Snape's turn to blush, the tops of his cheeks turning pale pink and Hermione found it charming. "I might have looked up your file when the receptionist was away."

"I'm glad you did." Hermione replied honestly. "I was afraid I wouldn't see you again."

"Why?" Snape asked, looking perplexed and confused again, the deep crease returning once more. Hermione wanted to smooth it away with her thumb.

"I don't know exactly. I've avoided everything else which reminds me of the magical world, but you're different somehow. You're different to what you used to be like, and I'm curious about you. I guess I wanted to know more." They wandered down the central path of the park, they were pretty much alone, excepting a couple of joggers and dog walkers. It was already dark.

"There's not much to know," Severus said quietly. "I'm training to be a doctor and I've lost my magic. I too have lost contact with our old world."

"Why did you decide to become a doctor? You could have done anything!"

"To atone," Severus said simply. Hermione didn't know what to say to that and they continued walking in silence for a while.

Hermione was hyper aware of the man walking along beside her. He was so tall and seemed at ease with himself in his long black coat. Some strands of his hair were falling over his eyes and Hermione's hands itched to brush them aside and feel the silky strands for herself. She had never been so attracted to anyone before and wondered what exactly he felt towards her.

"Why did you send me the flowers?" she asked after a long pause.

His eyes darted to hers and then back towards the path. "You were ill. How are you feeling now? You look like yourself again."

Hermione's hands instinctively went back to her face and she laughed. "Much better, thank you. I did look awful, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't say that," Snape said, and Hermione suddenly remembered that he had seen her breasts and flushed a deep red. Snape noticed and guessed the reason for the change. He coughed. "That's not what I meant. Just that it would be hard for you to look awful."

"Oh," Hermione said, pleased at the compliment.

"What do you do?" Snape changed the subject, and Hermione told him about her research, relieved to be back on safe ground. Snape was smiling as Hermione enthusiastically talked about her subject. When she glanced at him she stopped mid-sentence.

"You have a nice smile, Professor," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile before."

Snape looked at her intently. "You may call me Severus, if you like, I am no one's professor any more. And when I was, I had little to smile about, Hermione."

Hermione didn't know how to respond, she didn't want to mention the war. But she flushed with pleasure when he said her name. "Severus," she tested his name aloud and found she liked the way it felt on her lips.

She looked at him again and this time his gaze was _smouldering_. She stumbled as a rush of desire flowed through her, and Severus instinctively grabbed her arm to steady her. They ended up standing face to face.

Hermione felt like she was burning up at the contact and her eyes dilated visibly. She noticed that Severus hadn't let her go, that his own eyes had deepened as they stayed locked with hers. She felt a throb in her groin when she realised that he was leaning down towards her. _He's going to kiss me,_ she thought excitedly, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, drawing his gaze. Closer, closer...

"No, wait!" she remembered suddenly, "I'm still contagious."

Severus drew away from her again. He said nothing, and instead drew her arm into the crook of his as they moved to continue walking through the park.

The tension between them was almost unbearable. Hermione could feel the heat radiating from his body and unconsciously tightened her hold on his arm. The bottom of his coat brushed against her legs, and her breath hitched in response. How could such an innocuous contact affect her so? She angled her body into his as she looked down at his coat, accidentally brushing her breast against his arm, and she saw his fist clench as her own nipples tightened.

"Severus," she began, trying to break the tension, but at the same time he pulled her into his arms, growled "I don't care", and pressed his mouth against hers passionately, even desperately.

Hermione let out a mewl of surprise and desire and responded enthusiastically, pulling his lower lip between her teeth before slipping her tongue into his mouth. She had never been kissed so passionately before, had never felt such strong desire. Her hands felt the sides of his face, delighting in the rough texture of his slight stubble, before moving into his hair which was as silky as she had imagined it. Severus gripped her waist in return, pulling her into his body and bending her back slightly to continue kissing her, supporting her weight with his arms.

They kissed languidly, pressing against each other, revelling in their closeness. Hermione felt utterly consumed, he was caressing every part of her mouth and she returned the favour, feeling like she couldn't get close enough.

Eventually, Severus slowed the kiss and pulled back. They were both breathing heavily but remained standing close, holding each other as they tried to catch their breath. Hermione's hands were trembling as they clutched his arms.

"Wow" Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

"Wow indeed", Severus murmured, looking down at her and smiling again. A strange warmth bloomed in Hermione's chest at the sight.

He bent towards her again and gave her another soft kiss, before taking her hand in his and continuing their walk.

"You're so different now, Severus. At the doctor's you hardly spoke to me and now you seem so free and at ease. It's like you're a completely different person."

Severus smiled again. "You surprised me. I was shocked to see you there and I didn't know how to behave. When we knew each other before, I was under an immense amount of stress and I had always been cruel to you. And even though I am not that man any more, when I saw you at the doctor's I didn't know how to be the man I've become. Not when I first saw you and was so startled, and certainly not when I had to connect you to the ECG machine."

Hermione blushed at the reminder and ducked her head.

Severus shook his head. "Don't be embarrassed. You are so beautiful, Hermione, if you weren't, I wouldn't have struggled so much with how to act. Over the last years, I've managed to let go of the past, let go of the people I used to know and let go of the pain of the war. I made peace with my past and with myself and I moved on. Except, I could never quite forget you."

Hermione looked up at him, startled. "Why me?" she asked.

"You were always a difficulty for me. At first, you reminded me so much of myself when I first got to Hogwarts. Desperate to prove yourself to others, isolated, and absolutely brilliant. But you were a muggleborn, and in Gryffindor, and I had a role to play. I couldn't mentor you, or ease your arrival, as I might have done otherwise. And I was cruel to you, at first to create necessary distance between us, and then because I resented your relationship with Harry Potter.

"But I continued watching you, and I was always impressed by what I saw, even when you antagonised me. And then I heard of what happened to you during that _awful_ year, and I remember seeing you fight so fiercely during the final battle... I was never able to forget that image.

"And then I saw you lying on the doctor's bed, and I realised that you are not a girl any more and that even with your face swollen, you were so beautiful. But I didn't know how to say anything and then you were gone. I went home that night and thought about how I would see you again, to finally have the chance to get to know you. And after you visited the next day, I decided to take a look at your file."

Hermione stopped them again and give Severus a long kiss. She was awed by his honesty and openness "I like the man you have become", she said after a while. "I like him very, very much," and then she kissed him again.

Hours later, Severus dropped Hermione back at her block of flats and she went upstairs alone, unable to hold back the grin that was spread over her face. They had talked for hours, aimlessly walking through the large park. She had told him more about her research and he had spoken about his studies to be a doctor. They had talked about her time at Hogwarts and she had confessed to stealing his potions ingredients in her second year, resulting in another passionate kiss against a tree as Severus nipped at her lips in the best punishment she had ever received. They had even managed to talk about the war, a subject Hermione always avoided, even in her own thoughts. But with him she had felt safe, safe from past horrors and torments. It had been a relief to talk about those things she had kept bottled up for so long.

She felt like a great weight had been lifted from her chest, and more than that, she felt truly happy for the first time in so very long. And she knew Severus felt the same. She could never have imagined that it was possible for him to look so joyful, but by the end of their walk he had looked younger than ever, carefree and happy. He had granted her with a full-bodied smile more than once, and the memory of his open, ardent expression as he bade her goodnight sent a thrill through Hermione.

As she fell asleep that night, a smile was still playing about Hermione's lips.

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she could feel something had changed. She reached for her mobile phone to check the time, but before she could grab it, it flew straight into her hand.

She lay there looking at the phone in her hand in disbelief. Energy was coursing through her body. She felt _powerful_. She had done wandless, wordless magic and it hadn't sent fear and loss coursing through her. She wanted more. She got up and reached under her bed for the box containing her wand.

Hermione was laughing with glee. She had spent the last hour performing all of her favourite spells and now there were charmed birds flying around her room, the floor of her flat looked like a meadow of wild flowers and the ceiling reflected the sky outside. She had transfigured an old t-shirt into a yellow cotton dress, and her breakfast was making itself in the kitchen.

Just one more spell to go, a spell she had always struggled with.

" _Expecto Patronum_!" A black panther shot from her wand.

Hermione gasped and had to sit down. She had thought of Severus kissing her, and her Patronus had shot from her wand with unprecedented ease. But it was the form it had taken which really shocked her. She was in love with Severus Snape. After seeing him only three times after years of absence from her life, and only once with any kind of mutual understanding, she was _in love with him_. The panther currently prowling through the magicked wild flowers was indubitable proof of that.

Only the deepest love could change the form of a Patronus. And the sleek, elegant black panther couldn't reflect any person other than Snape. Its fur was soft and silky, its eyes were dark pools which seemed to go on for ever, and Hermione could even see a slight discolouration on its left leg, reminiscent of a dark mark.

The reminder of Voldemort didn't terrify Hermione, didn't make her want to hide away and cry. Rather, it reminded her of Severus' bravery, of his own suffering, and of his parting kiss and smile the night before.

He had given her her magic back. She was no longer afraid of it, and it no longer made her miss the magical world with an unbearable ache. He had given her happiness and hope. And he had reminded her of her own ability to love. She hadn't had anyone to love in so long.

But how to proceed? Should she reveal how far she had fallen so quickly? Should she wait, and take it slowly? Would her revelation scare him away or bind him to her irrevocably? She knew she wanted the latter.

As crazy as it seemed, she already knew she had found the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, the rest of her life loving. And from Severus' kisses the day before, from his laughter and his passionate gaze resting on hers, Hermione suspected he was not far off from feeling the same.

Before she could change her mind, Hermione sent the panther Patronus bounding through the wall of her flat and away to the man who had given it its form.


End file.
